


Maybe One Day

by oREDACTEDo



Series: Creepy Femme Fatales [4]
Category: Creepypasta - Fandom
Genre: Daydreaming, Fantasizing, Loneliness, Murder, Proxy, Single life, Toby deeply wants a girlfriend, Too bad he's insane
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-03
Updated: 2018-05-03
Packaged: 2019-05-01 20:27:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14528532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oREDACTEDo/pseuds/oREDACTEDo
Summary: Toby contemplates what it's like having a girl to call his own.





	Maybe One Day

**Author's Note:**

> Reader is just in his imagination, but it's an interesting thought I had. This was either going to turn out to be about Ticci Toby or Tomura Shigaraki from My Hero Academia. Turned into Toby lol. Enjoy fam!

He wondered what it was like waking up next to someone.  Silk skin rich with the scent of milk and honey.  Something so precious it would make him stargaze even in the crack of dawn, even with the curtains shut and the morning sand still in his eyes.  There would be an air of gracefulness around her that would make his very breath fall short.  Make his heart pound a million miles and beyond.  Cause his palms to turn sweaty with the thrumming of his heartbeat in his ears.  Yet he’d still be able to hear her voice clear as day saying his name.

He wondered what it was like to kiss a girl.  He’d probably even kiss her every morning, every hour, every day.  Like it was more than just his duty, but his desire to.  He had to and wanted to show her how much he loved her.  How gorgeous she was. 

He wondered what it was like making love.  Did it feel good?  Was it really, truly invigorating?  Would it make him feel like a new man?  Loved?  Would he grab her skin with a gentleness that made her seem like glass?  Or would he grab her hips with every fiber of his being—in absolute fear of letting her slip away for too long.  Because he simply couldn’t stand her being gone for long. 

He’d shower with her, cook with her, clean with her.  He’d help her pick out her clothing—not that his opinion would matter.  She would look absolutely perfect in everything.  Every.  Little.  Thing.  But most of all, she would look perfect naked. 

He couldn’t imagine it now—how she’d look.  It was almost impossible to.  He never looked at a woman in such a way before.  He couldn’t even pretend to know how it would feel to stare at someone so longingly, wanting.  Not once did he stop and stare at a woman for just a second because, damn, she was pretty.  Never did he smell a girl and thought, “wow, she smells nice.”  Neither has he ever wondered how soft a lady’s hair was, nor did his fingertips itch to stroke the lovely strands.  Curiosity, perhaps, but not the desire.  He only ever worked, tireless, mindlessly.

Perfectly.  Still, he wanted to just know at least once before he dies what it was like to fall in love. 

A twist, a pop, a scream.  He tugs against the forearm so hard that it snaps, breaks, then finally stretches.  Stretches so far that it tears.  Strands of flesh tore from the base of the upper arm.  It vaguely reminded him of his mother’s home cooked bacon when she was still around.  When life was good, and normal, and _kinda_ alright.  At least that’s what little him thought—that it was okay—because sis was around.  Because dad was always working.  Because God forbid mom would let any sort of alcohol enter pass the doorway.  Because even though he couldn’t physically feel pain, he could still feel.  And back then, before he really felt pain, he felt good.  He felt like life was alright. 

Blood splatters across the room like rainfall.  The screaming was loud and annoying, but he grew used to it.  All it ever did was give him a subtle headache now.  Hazy eyes stared at the tear stricken face, all snot covered and wet with sweat.  Saw the way she cried her eyes out and begged for him to stop.  And to further the point she promised— _promised_ —she’d do anything.

For a second, Toby thought.  Thought real **fucking** hard.  But his eyes shift towards her face again, just for a moment, and he felt nothing.  Like always.

No, _she_ wasn’t the one. 

A hatchet comes crashing like thunder, bursting between the seams of the base of her skull, and she didn’t even see it coming.  She slumps, and he lets his hatchet fall with her.  The blood pools, warming up the floor.  He could feel its heat seeping through the fabric of his shoes. 

Maybe one day he’ll find the right gal.  The one that’ll make his heart race and, as Jeff claims, his dick hard.  He didn’t care about the last part though.  He just wanted to know what it was like. 

Toby glances towards the dark sky.  The moon peaked from between the dead branches hanging feet up in the air, the sounds of the forest shuffling louder as a cold breeze passes.  It was pretty late now, probably 1:00 AM.

“T-T-T-T…” his tongue clicks when he makes a particularly rough twitch, breath hitching from such a rough motion.  Pressing his feet against the corpse he frees his hatchet with a particularly strong tug before treading along the forest. 

**_Welp.  Back to work._ **

**Author's Note:**

> I have a final in 19 minutes and I wrote this because I was bored :'). Maybe I'll write a story about him one day? Who knows!
> 
> Comments or Requests?
> 
> My Tumblr: http://tiktikaswang.tumblr.com/


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